


No Holds Bard

by baroque_mongoose



Category: Girl Genius
Genre: Gen, Mild Language, Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:39:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2696621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baroque_mongoose/pseuds/baroque_mongoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Macbeth, performed by the Jägers, and with scenery and special effects by Agatha Heterodyne.</p>
<p>What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Holds Bard

It is possible that a volume of the complete works of Shakespeare had never been previously seen in the middle of Mamma Gkika's bar; but there was certainly one there now, and it was being held open by Dimo's mechanical left hand. The right one held a piece of notepaper with some writing on it, which he was waving in front of the assembled crowd of Jägers.

“Goot,” he said. “Now hy got hyu attention, hyu all listen, hokay? Hyu all remember Mister Vooster, right?”

There was an enthusiastic chorus of assent. Everyone did.

“Ja. Vell, most of hyu also know he is now der Earl of Heversham und lots of fancy schtuff like dot,” said Dimo, “vhich is goot, because now he dun vorry half so much. Und hy got a letter from him dis morning vot hyu can all see here.” He waved the paper again. “He iz coming here to Mechanicsburg for a holiday vit his family, und dey are goink to schtay in de rooms upstairs here again, like dey did vhen dere vos nearly dat var vit von Blitzengaard.”

There was a loud cheer. Ardsley Wooster, under any name, was highly popular with the Jägers; partly this was because he had been a great deal of help to Agatha, but also it was because he genuinely liked them. He always had. When you are a spy, it is extremely refreshing to be surrounded by people you know you can trust with your life if you have to, and the Jägers have never been subtle or devious about their loyalties. Of course, he was not a spy now; he was the British Ambassador to the Wulfenbach Empire, and consequently, as Dimo shrewdly pointed out, he was a great deal less stressed than he had once been. Diplomacy came far more naturally to him than spying ever had. But, spy or diplomat, worried young man or bespectacled greying aristocrat, he was and always would be the Jägers' friend.

“Zo,” Dimo continued, “hy tot it vould be goot to put on a liddle show for dem. Und vit dem beink British, hy reckon hyu can't go wrong vit Shakespeare, ja?”

“Ho!” exclaimed Maxim. “Ja. Culture. Iz a goot idea, Dimo. To be or not to be, dot is der qvestion.”

“Vy?” asked Oggie.

“Hyu mean vy Shakespeare?” asked Dimo.

“No. Vy is dot der qvestion?”

Maxim cuffed him. “Hy vos qvoting, eediot. Iz Hamlet.”

“Ve not doink Hamlet,” said Mamma Gkika firmly. “De beeg parts for vimmin are not fit for a Jäger. Hy vant to play a schtrong tough voman.”

“Hyu know Hamlet?” asked Dimo, astonished.

“Hy know all de plays,” replied Gkika. “Yust because hy run a bar, dot does not mean to say hy neffer do any readink. Iz very qviet in der morninks.” She paused. “Und ve not doink Titus Andronicus because it vill giff de keeds nightmares. Ve got to tink of dem. Dey only younk.”

“Vot's his favourite play?” asked Maxim.

“Hy dun know,” said Dimo. “Maybe ve ask de Mistress. Is der sort of ting she might know.”

“Vell, ve not doing Hamlet even if iz dot,” said Gkika firmly. “Hy not playink Gertrude, or Ophelia.”

“Dot's a pity,” said Dimo. “Hy qvite like der idea of doink Hamlet. Ve vould need a schkull for it, und der is plenty around der Kestle.”

“Hyu vant to put on Hamlet, sveethot, hyu can play Gertrude,” said Gkika. “All she does is flap und vaffle. Hy vant to play Lady Macbeth.”

“Hey!” said Maxim. “Hy seen Macbeth. Iz really goot. Iz lots of killink.”

“Vot about de keeds?” asked Dimo doubtfully.

“Oh, dey vould be fine,” said Gkika. “Iz yust killink. Iz not hacking bits off anyvun vitout killink dem.”

“Und,” said Maxim, “iz ghosts. Ghosts iz fun.”

“H'mm,” said Dimo. “Und iz not too many vimmin, if hy remember. Pretty much only de Lady. Dot vun might yust vork.” He leafed through the volume. “Ja. Iz Hecate und de t'ree Vitches, but den dey dun haff to be pretty. Und Lady Macduff, yust in vun scene.”

“Secret, black und midnight hags,” said Maxim happily. “Hy remember.”

“Can hy play a ghost?” asked Oggie hopefully. “Hy bet hy vould be a goot ghost.”

“Iz only vun ghost,” said Dimo. “Iz Banquo. Dun tink hyu could be Banquo, Oggie. Too many lines to learn.”

“Hy could be Banquo,” said Maxim. “Hy goot at learnink lines.”

“Ja, hyu vould be a goot Banquo,” said Gkika. “Und Dimo, hyu should play Macbeth, because he supposed to be a tough guy.”

“Vot about me?” protested Oggie.

“Maybe hyu could be Duncan,” said Gkika. “He iz a king.”

Oggie beamed. “Dot sounds goot!”

“Und he gets murdered,” said Maxim.

“Ho. Dot dun sound qvite so goot,” said Oggie.

“Iz dere any fight scenes?” asked a voice from the back.

“Ho _ja,”_ replied Maxim happily.

So that, then, was pretty much settled.

When Dimo did a thing, he always did it thoroughly. First of all, he allotted all the remaining parts, making sure that everyone had at least one role; he doubled up on some of the non-speaking parts to ensure there was always a good crowd on the stage for the fight scenes. Next, he went to see Agatha to explain what they were doing and ask for her help. She very happily built a device which would run off a copy of the script for everyone who needed one, and offered to assist with the scenery and special effects. Dimo was delighted; that would mean that the special effects were really... well... special.

Once all that was sorted out, he arranged a schedule of rehearsals, taking a considerable amount of time and trouble to work out who would and would not be needed at each one, and posted it on the wall at Mamma Gkika's. Gkika took charge of the costumes, with some help from the “Jägerfrauen”, and a number of colourful wigs in feminine styles mysteriously appeared from somewhere for the benefit of Lady Macbeth's attendants. Well, after all, the Jägerfrauen were human, and they didn't all dye their hair interesting colours.

The first problem, as usual, turned out to be Oggie. It was such a pity. Everyone liked Oggie (and, indeed, there were a couple of the Jägerfrauen just at the moment who liked him so much that they were pretty much at daggers drawn, but that was a separate issue). However, even his closest friends had to admit that he was really not the sharpest pencil in the box. Not that this was how Dimo put it.

“Eediot!” he shouted. “Der line is 'Vot bloody man is dot?'. Not any odder vord. Der king iz not schvearink. He's sayink der man iz literally covered in bloot.”

“Ho,” said Oggie. “Hy... hy haffink a bit of trouble learnink de lines.”

“Hey,” said Maxim. “Hy been tinkink. Oggie been vorkink really hard at dose lines, but dey schtill not really goink in. So, vy dun ve haff a prompter for heem?”

“A vot?” asked Dimo.

“Iz a goot idea, Maxim,” said Mamma Gkika. “A prompter iz zumvun vot sits out of der vay zumvhere und holds up der lines vhere Oggie can see dem.”

“Ja,” said Dimo, scratching his chin. “Iz not such a bad idea. Maybe ve get de Mistress to build a place into der scenery vhere der prompter can sit und no-vun in der audience can see dem.”

“Ja, und if ve get vun of der non-schpeakink pipple to do it,” said Gkika, “it von't make dot much difference, because Duncan gets murdered vell before de beeg fight scene.”

“Hokay,” said Dimo. He looked round the room. “Hyu vant to do it, Gottfried?”

“Ja, vy not?” said the Jäger thus addressed. It was easy to see why Dimo had chosen him. If you want a Jäger to hide unobtrusively among the scenery, it is best to pick a small one, and Gottfried was almost a dwarf by Jäger standards. Quite a number of enemies over the years had made the mistake of underestimating him for that reason. It had invariably been the last thing they did, except, possibly, to shout “aaargh!”.

“Hokay. Zumvun write out Duncan's lines in beeg letters on bits of card zo Gottfried can hold dem up. Und vhile dot's heppenink, ve do der next scene, vot he iz not in.”

“Hy in dot vun,” said Maxim, with a huge grin. “Hy like playink Banqvo. Iz a goot character even vhen he iz dead.”

“Vy dun hy get to be a ghost too?” asked Oggie plaintively. “Duncan iz yust as dead as Banqvo.”

“Hy suppose ve could put hyu in,” said Gkika. “As long as hyu dun say anyting. Hy mean, iz notting to say dere isn't Duncan's ghost around zumtimes.”

“Mamma,” said Dimo, “hyu makink it complicated.”

Gkika laughed. “Iz already complicated, Dimo. If dis play had been written by a Jäger, Macbeth vould yust haff killed efferyvun vot mattered in de first act, und den if anyvun had complained he vould haff spent de rest of de play killink dem too.”

Dimo sighed. “Vell, hokay, Mamma. But if hyu vant Oggie to be Duncan's ghost, hyu got to be der vun to vork out vhen ve goink to haff heem und tell heem vot to do vhen he is on der stage. Hy got plenty to tink about vit de regular cast, vitout vorrying about Oggie in a sheet.”

“No vorries, sveethot,” said Gkika, beaming. “Hokay, Oggie, hyu in. Hyu yust do vot Mamma tells hyu und hyu be fine.”

There were other problems. In particular, it proved quite hard to explain what was seemly behaviour for a bevy of gentlewomen in attendance on a noble lady; Gkika finally settled that matter by threatening to knock heads together if anyone scuffled. “Und hy vould pick hyu up by hyu ankles und turn hyu upside down,” she added, “but not vhen hyu iz vearink skirts. _Probably_. Zo, dun annoy Lady Macbeth, hey?”

And yet, incredibly, the dress rehearsal went almost without a hitch, although Agatha was not entirely happy with some of the finer details of her scene-shifting mechanism and insisted on doing some more tinkering with it before the Earl and his family arrived. Dimo was a fine Macbeth, stern and resolute, and Gkika's Lady Macbeth was both sultry and terrifying. It was generally agreed that the way she varied her skin colour to suit the character's mood was a touch of thespian genius. Maxim was dashing as Banquo, but then he could hardly manage to be anything else in public; however, he did also do a good job of capturing the character's honourable nature and common sense. And Oggie, prompted expertly by Gottfried, made a very noble, if occasionally slightly dazed, King Duncan.

Lord and Lady Heversham arrived the following afternoon, and were warmly welcomed by Mamma Gkika. “Iz goot to haff hyu beck,” she said. “Glad hyu schtaying a liddle longer dis time. Und ve got a beeg surprise for hyu tonight.” She grinned from ear to ear.

“That's awfully kind of you,” said the Earl. “We really weren't expecting you to go to any trouble.”

“Ho, iz no trouble. Ve been haffink lots of fun, und ve tink hyu vill too vhen hyu see it. Und Lady Agatha und Lady Alice vill be velcome, too. Ve not sure der liddle vun is old enough to appreciate it qvite yet, but if hyu not got zumvun to look after him, hy get vun of de Jägerfrauen. Iz no problem.”

“We have a nurse,” replied the Countess. “Thank you, Gkika; it sounds intriguing.”

“Dot is vy dinner vill be a liddle early tonight,” Gkika explained. “Ve schtart at half past seven, because it vill be qvite long, zo dinner vill be at half past six.”

And so, just before half past seven, the family (apart from the baby) was comfortably ensconced in the front row of the audience between Agatha Heterodyne and Vanamonde von Mekkhan, the latter being now the Steward, since his father had finally – and exceedingly grumpily – died a few years earlier. Vanamonde had put on a great deal of weight, and, with his unusual hair, now had something of the air of a contented badger. Everyone who was anyone in Mechanicsburg was there, and so was pretty much everyone else, because it was certainly not every day you got to see a pack of Jägers perform Shakespeare.

The Earl leaned over to Agatha. “Is it going to be a musical entertainment?” he asked.

“Oh, no. They don't all sing as well as Maxim,” replied Agatha, with a smile. “No, this is a play. I think I must be allowed to tell you that much, especially since it's just about to start.”

“A play? Oh, splendid! We all enjoy the theatre. Will it be a comedy or a tragedy?”

“Well, it's Jägers, so they did go for something with a bit of gore in it,” Agatha admitted, “although I'm in charge of the special effects, so I made sure they toned it down to reasonable levels. I didn't want them giving your girls nightmares.”

“Ah,” said the Earl, a little uncertainly.

Agatha beamed. “Don't worry, Ardsley. They've all worked extremely hard, and I've been keeping an eye on them, and I'm sure you're all going to enjoy this very much.”

The curtain rose on a stage in semi-darkness, to the accompaniment of some very impressive thunder and lightning. Three figures, robed and cowled, stole onto the stage from different directions, and gathered beside one of the sundry rocky outcrops that littered the scene.

“Vhen shall ve t'ree meet again?” demanded the first one, and the play began.

“Ooh,” whispered young Lady Agatha to her mother. “They make really good witches, don't they?”

They did indeed. It was fair to say that no group of Macbeth witches had ever had fangs like that before. They played their little scene and then hurried off the stage again in answer to the calls of their unseen spirit familiars (actually Mamma Gkika making some convincing animal noises); and all might have continued to go smoothly if the Second Witch had not tripped over the hem of her robe on the way out and crashed into one of the rocky outcrops.

It swore at her.

“Shot op,” hissed the Second Witch. “Der audience heard dot.”

“Hyu knocked all my damn cards out of my hend,” complained the outcrop. “Clumsy eediot.”

“Get off der schtage!” said the First Witch, grabbing the Second Witch by the cowl and dragging her away. There were the muted sounds of a scuffle in the wings, and then the lights went up and Oggie entered, wearing a crown and accompanied by a group of heavily armed Jägers. Another Jäger entered from the other side, covered in stage blood.

“Is execution done on Cawdor?” Oggie began. The Jäger playing Donalbain wheeled round on him.

“Shotopshotopshotop,” he said.

Oggie looked bewildered. “Dot's not in der play,” he said. “Hy pretty sure of it.”

“Hyu got der wrong line,” said Malcolm. He glared accusingly at the rocky outcrop. “Hyu! Hyu drunk or zumtink?”

“Hy can't help it if de Vitch knocked all de cards on der floor,” the outcrop snapped back. “Hy doink my best to sort dem out, but hy can't see a damn ting in here.”

“Vot bloody man is dis?” demanded Donalbain, deciding to come to the rescue.

“Hey!” Oggie protested. “Dot's my line.”

“Vell, hyu didn't say it, und zumvun got to,” said Donalbain. “He can report, as zeemeth by his plight, of der revolt der newest schtate.”

“Dis is der sergeant,” Malcolm began, “who...”

“Hy supposed to be der king here,” Oggie protested. “Hyu can't yust go round saying my lines.”

“Ja, but hyu got der wrong vun. Execution dun get done on Cawdor until scene four,” Donalbain explained, logically. “Und iz not even as if ve get it on schtage, but schtill.”

“Dis,” said Malcolm dangerously, “is der sergeant, who like a goot und hardy soldier fought 'gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend!”

“...und, Oggie, hy suggest hyu yust shot op und vander round lookink regal until hy get hyu lines in order,” said the outcrop.

“Say to der king der knowledge of der broil, as thou didst leave it,” Malcolm continued.

“Doubtful it schtood...” began the sergeant.

So, for that matter, did Oggie. “Vot hyu mean hy should shot op? Hy der king!”

Gkika's head shot out from one of the entrances. “Ja,” she said. “Shot op until Gottfried gets hyu lines sorted out, Oggie. De odders vill cover for hyu. Yust look nize und kingly, und if hyu can't manage dot, get off der schtage, hokay?”

Oggie subsided into a bemused and somewhat resentful silence, and the scene wobbled back to some vague semblance of Shakespeare until it ended and Oggie was hustled firmly offstage by Malcolm and Donalbain. The lights went down for a moment to allow the various rocky outcrops to be moved around a little, or, in the case of one of them, to shift sideways of its own accord until Gottfried was close enough to the wings to make an unobtrusive exit, and then the lights went back up to reveal the Witches again.

The audience could not help noting that the Second Witch was now wearing Maxim's cloak over her black robe. Some of its more intelligent members, including Agatha and the Earl, correctly deduced that this was because the robe had been torn in the scuffle at the end of the first scene.

“Vhere hast thou been, sister?” enquired the First Witch.

“Killink schvine,” replied the Second Witch, in menacing tones.

The Third Witch rolled her eyes. “Sister, vhere thou?”

The First Witch went into her little speech, during which the Second Witch glared balefully at her and the Third Witch edged cautiously between the two of them. Clearly, the ladies from Hades were not all pulling together, whatever they might actually have to say on stage. They were, however, good enough actors not to come to blows in front of the audience, although it was probably just as well that Macbeth and Banquo – in the respective persons of Dimo and Maxim – came on when they did.

“Zo fair und foul a day hy haff not seen,” declared Dimo.

Maxim eyed the glowering Second Witch, considered his cloak, looked at the one he was wearing as Banquo, and decided that his own would look a great deal better with the rest of the ensemble. He accordingly took off his Banquo cloak while he was speaking, handed it to the Second Witch, and indicated that she should restore his own cloak to him.

“How far is't called to Forres?” he asked. “Vot are dese so vither'd und so vild in deir attire...” He paused. The Second Witch was making no move to give him his cloak.

“...dot look not like der inhabitants o' der earth...” Maxim continued, giving a gentle tug at the cloak to reinforce his suggestion.

“Get vound, Maxim,” said the Second Witch, in what was probably supposed to be an undertone.

“...and yet are on't? Live hyu?”

“Hint,” growled Dimo. “Not if hyu tok to Maxim like dot hyu don't. Giff him his cloak.”

“Hy got a tear in my robe,” the Second Witch complained.

“...Or are hyu aught dat man may qvestion? Hyu seem to underschtand me...”

“...but hyu not doink anytink about it,” said Dimo.

“...by each at vunce her choppy finger laying upon her schkinny lips...”

“Hy iz not takink der cloak off or der whole audience iz goink to see my drawers,” hissed the Second Witch. “Und iz ladies present.”

“Hyu should be vimmin,” Maxim finished, “und yet hyu beards forbid me to interpret dot hyu iz so.”

“Gott's leetle fish in trousers! Schtand behind me und schvap de cloaks,” muttered Dimo. In his stage voice, he said, “Schpeak, if hyu can; vot are hyu?”

“All hail, Macbeth!” replied the First Witch enthusiastically. “Hail to thee, t'ane of Glamis!”

There was a pause. The Second Witch was now very reluctantly swapping cloaks with Maxim behind Dimo. She emerged in the Banquo cloak.

“All hail, Macbeth,” she said, sounding extremely sulky. “Hail to thee, t'ane of Cawdor.”

“All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter!” said the Third Witch.

The rest of the scene passed without further difficulties, and in particular without the Second Witch beating anyone up, though she very much looked as though she would if anyone gave her half a chance. As soon as it was finished, the whole stage began to rotate, transporting the witches, Macbeth and Banquo into the wings and revealing the stately interior of King Duncan's palace. Lord Heversham considered where they might have hidden the prompter this time, and decided he must be lurking inside one of the pillars. There was a somewhat Monteverdi-esque trumpet fanfare, and Oggie returned with Malcolm, Donalbain and various others in tow.

Yes. Oggie was gazing at a pillar. Well, there were very few other places the prompter could be.

“Is execution done on Cawdor?” he enquired. Then he paused. “Vait. Hy already said dot.”

“Ja, but last time hyu said it in der wrong place,” Donalbain explained. “Dis time, hyu got it right. Go on. Iz more.”

“Ho ja,” said Oggie. “Are not dose in commission yet return'd?”

There was an uncomfortable pause.

“Malcolm,” said Donalbain.

“Hy know,” said Malcolm, in obvious panic. “Hy forgot my lines.”

“My liege, dey are not yet come back,” said Donalbain quickly.

“Ho ja,” said Malcolm, relieved. “Tenk hyu. But hy haff schpoke vit vun who saw him die...”

Malcolm duly rattled through the rest of his speech, and then Donalbain poked Oggie in the ribs, seeing that he was no longer looking at the pillar but had got distracted by some small detail of the scenery around him. “Vot?” said Oggie.

Donalbain indicated the pillar as discreetly as he could.

“Ho. Ja. Dere's no art to find der mind's construction in der face; he vos a yentleman on whom hy built an absolute trust.”

Dimo and Maxim promptly entered stage right, along with the two Jägers who were playing Ross and Angus. “Hey,” said Oggie. “Hyu got der wrong cloak on!”

“O vorthiest cousin!” said Donalbain, digging Oggie in the ribs again.

“Dot's my line,” Oggie complained.

“Ja. Hy know. Hy vant hyu to say it,” said Donalbain. “Neffer mind about Maxim's cloak. Get on vit der play.”

“O vorthiest cousin, he got der wrong cloak on,” said Oggie, who, once he had an idea on his mind, did not easily allow it to be dislodged.

“O vorthiest cousin,” growled Donalbain, “der sin of my ingratitude...”

“Ho, shot op,” said Oggie.

“Eediot,” said Dimo. “Schtop vorrying about der schtupid cloak und get on vit hyu lines.”

“Und if hyu dun say dem, hy come out und say dem for hyu,” the pillar threatened. “Oddervise ve be here all blasted night.”

“Ho, all right,” said Oggie, with a shrug. “Der sin of my ingratitude even now vos heavy on me...”

By the time Scene 5 came round – in the most literal sense, for the stage revolved again to reveal the interior of Macbeth's castle – the audience was quite justifiably wondering what was going to go wrong this time. However, for once, nothing did. As Lady Macbeth, Mamma Gkika was very much in charge, and she soliloquised splendidly until Dimo arrived as Macbeth; the whole scene went without a hitch, and got a round of applause from the audience at its conclusion. Another revolution of the stage brought the action outside the castle. It was, in fact, basically the same exterior setting which had been used in the first two scenes of the play, but with a new backcloth to represent the castle building. There was also, naturally enough, a low wall extending about a third of the way across the stage. It was quite a thick wall, easily thick enough for Gottfried to be lurking inside it.

“Dis castle has a pleasant seat,” Oggie began.

“Yours isn't bad either,” called a female voice from the back of the audience. There was a fit of giggling from a bunch of Jägerfrauen.

“Shot op,” shouted Maxim. “Dis iz not an audience participation performance.”

Oggie blinked at him. “Vhere vos hy?”

“Der air...” Maxim prompted.

“Der air nimbly und sveetly recommends itself unto our yentle senses,” said Oggie.

Maxim was just opening his mouth to respond to this when there was a noise offstage and Mamma Gkika entered from an opening in the castle backcloth, too early, too fast, and backwards. “Vot der dumboozle?” said Maxim.

“Get on vit der play,” she said, through the corner of her mouth. “Hy keel de Second Vitch later.”

Maxim shrugged, and obligingly got on with Banquo's speech while Gkika stood in the middle of the stage trying to look as though aristocratic Scottish ladies always came out to greet their king like that. Maxim finished his speech and looked at Oggie.

“Iz hyu,” he said, when Oggie remained silent.

“Ja,” replied Oggie, “but hy supposed to say 'See, see our honoured hostess!' und she been schtandink dere since before hyu schtarted vafflink about liddle birds buildink deir nests in der eaves.”

“Iz not vafflink,” said Maxim indignantly. “Iz beautiful poetic langvage.”

“Neffer mind dat hy been schtandink dere,” said Gkika. “Yust pretend hyu haffen't noticed und say der lines, Oggie.”

“Ho. Vell, hy already said dot vun, zo... der luff dat follows us zumtimes iz our trouble...”

Maxim glared at the group of Jägerfrauen, just daring them to say anything about that.

Oggie got through the rest of his speech. “All our service...” Gkika began, and then yelped.

The stage was revolving.

The palace interior swung majestically past the audience, followed by the inside of Macbeth's castle, where a very confused Jäger in his vest and drawers was still enjoying a quiet bottle of beer. The exterior scene then passed again, but by this time all the actors had escaped backstage.

All but one...

“Vot der dumboozle iz goink on?” demanded the low wall outside the castle. “Vhere iz everyvun? Vy iz nobody listenink?”

The stage began to rumble as it picked up speed. Gkika's voice soared over it from somewhere behind. “Hyu lot schtop dot right now, or hy crackink some heads,” she threatened.

“Oh, my,” said Agatha. “It's not supposed to go that fast. Excuse me...” She leapt to her feet and darted out through one of the side doors.

Some of the props were already starting to slide out towards the edge of the stage. Lord Heversham saw the danger and jumped up. “What are you doing, Ardsley?” his wife demanded.

“If it speeds up any more, things are going to fly off into the audience,” he explained.

“You are not going up there,” said the Countess firmly. “It'll be even more dangerous if you go flying into the audience with them. You're not a young spy with a grapnel line and nothing to lose these days, you know.”

“I wasn't thinking of doing that. I'm going to hook the props with my cane and pull them onto the floor before they gain too much angular momentum.”

“Well, be careful, then,” said the Countess. “I don't want you hurt.”

“I'll help,” offered von Mekkhan, rising awkwardly to his feet. He hurried after the Earl, his own cane at the ready.

Gottfried, meanwhile, had extracted himself from the wall and was looking round in rising panic. The Jägerkin are a tough race, and he was not worried about being hurt; he was, however, very worried that he might be thrown off the stage and cause damage to someone else. He would have to jump off before that happened, but the stage was revolving so fast now that it would be very difficult to time that properly.

Still, he could but try. He ran to the edge of the stage and leapt.

He landed right on top of Vanamonde von Mekkhan, who went down like a stone. The Earl, the Countess and several local worthies hurried to the assistance of both parties; von Mekkhan turned out to be winded and somewhat bruised, but no worse, and Gottfried was simply embarrassed.

“Oh, I say!” exclaimed young Lady Agatha brightly. “The thunder and lightning effects have started up again.”

“I didn't know Shakespeare was as interesting as this,” said her sister, Lady Alice. “It's much better on stage than when you're just reading it, don't you think?”

“Especially with Jägers,” said Lady Agatha happily. “I think I'd like to see them do Twelfth Night next. It's my favourite.”

“But do you think Mamma Gkika would play Olivia or Viola?” asked Lady Alice. “And who would play the other one?”

“Maxim,” said Lady Agatha promptly. “He has such pretty hair.”

Gradually, order was restored, although not without much shouting from backstage. The thunder and lightning were switched off, the stage was brought to a halt, and after a little while Mamma Gkika walked on looking apologetic.

“Ve very sorry about der unscheduled interruption,” she announced. “Ve goink to haff a liddle break to recover, und den ve goink to schtart again from der beginnink of scene 7. Iz all vorkink properly again now.”

Agatha Heterodyne returned to her place. “Whew,” she said, pushing back her hair with a greasy hand and leaving smudges on her forehead.

“What exactly went wrong?” asked the Earl.

“Oh, there was a fight backstage, and the Second Witch hit someone and they fell on the lever and broke it,” Agatha explained. “Right down at the base, so nobody could get a proper grip on it. I had to push a screwdriver into the slot and force it back up. And the break's not just for recovering; Gkika insisted on replacing the Second Witch, but the new one doesn't know the lines, obviously, so there's a new set of cards being made for Gottfried. Just as well Duncan doesn't appear after scene 6, otherwise it would be even more confusing.”

“I take it the Second Witch was the one who hit Gkika and forced her onto the stage early?”

“Yes, it was,” said Agatha. “There aren't many people back there the Second Witch hasn't punched by now. She... he, that is... is in a really filthy temper.”

“I did get that impression,” said the Earl, carefully.

“I'm sorry about all the things going wrong,” said Agatha. “I hope it isn't spoiling the performance for you, Ardsley.”

“Agatha,” the Earl assured her with a smile, “I can honestly say I haven't enjoyed a performance of Macbeth so much in years. It is already utterly unforgettable.”

Agatha laughed. “I'll give you that,” she admitted.


End file.
